Free Guarding the Socialite by Kimberly Van Meter Page B

anyone?”
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    So much for finesse. So much for protocol. But Dillon needed to know. He had his reasons. Ones that were grounded in logic. But he couldn’t lie. He had reasons that were purely selfish, too.
    The pink tip of her tongue snaked out to touch her top lip, as if without thought and his body hardened. Get a hold of yourself, man. Your cheese has done slid off your cracker.
    â€œUh…” She faltered at the personal question he’d lobbed at her with all the grace of an elephant but she shook her head in answer. “No. I don’t have time for much of a personal life. Iris House is a large commitment that leaves little room for…much else. Why?”
    â€œIs there anyone—rebuffed suitors, angry ex-boyfriends—who might have a score to settle with you?” he asked. In theory, a less-secure man might find her rejection too much to handle. He needed to rule out former flames as suspects. “Anyone who might have suffered a broken heart?”
    â€œAt my hands?” Her mouth twisted in a small but wry smile. “No. Like I said, I haven’t had much opportunity to break hearts or enjoy company.”
    He tucked that away, absurdly relieved. But he also found it telling. “Why would someone—pardon my saying—who is as attractive, intelligent and accomplished as you remain single?”
    â€œAgent McIntyre, I was raised in an age where a woman doesn’t need a man to feel complete,” she answered with a smile. She was playing with him but he saw the loneliness that she tried to hide, burying it under work, obligation and responsibility. She continued with a shrug. “Besides, it isn’t as if I’ve avoided dating. I just value my time and have rarely found anyone worth sacrificing it for.” In theory it sounded plausible but he sensed a ghost lingering in the room, something that constantly pushed her to relegate her needs to the farthest corner and he wanted to know why.
    â€œBut you would if you found the right person?”
    A small, tremulous smile followed. “Are you asking me out, Agent McIntyre?”
    He straightened. “No. Just trying to figure a few things out.”
    â€œLet me make it simple for you,” she said, rising. “Iris House means everything to me. I would never jeopardize the success and stability of the house for the sake of personal involvement. I’m a busy woman, as you can imagine. I hardly miss the complications inherent in a relationship.”
    That was a bold-faced lie. At least part of it was.
    And he wanted to know what was behind door number two. He just had to figure out how to get the key.

Chapter 7
    E mma took a moment to compose herself before she pushed the doorbell on her parents’ palatial home, stuffing down the trepidation that usually followed a visit to Veronica and Nigel Vale.
    It wasn’t always so difficult to go home but after Elyse died—she swallowed the familiar lump when thoughts of her sister arose—and the opening of Iris House, the visits became more like tense negotiations rather than family get-togethers. And frankly, as her parents aged, they became less interested in tact than they were in their single-minded desire for her to shut down Iris House and take her place in society, as if they were living in the Victorian age and Emma was shaming them for her career choice.
    She had no taste for pointless dinners and parties. Perhaps at one time she’d been seduced by the lavish social events, but after Elyse died Emma had realized how shallow and meaningless it all was. She also recognized that to keepIris House open she had to continue to circulate in the same nauseating circles as she had before, only now she was more interested in their generous donations.
    The door opened and she smiled a greeting to Phillipe, their butler since she was a child, and allowed him to take her coat.
    â€œSo good to see you, Miss Vale. Your parents are